


Girls On Film

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Hoping to make some quick money, Belle answers an ad for a model. She finds a very attractive photographer waiting for her.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Girls On Film

The half-column ad caught Belle’s eye.

She was between jobs, the library she had worked at having closed as a cost-cutting measure. The branch on the other side of the city had no current openings, and while she had put out inquiries and hoped to find another position in her field soon, she had thought it best to find something temporary to pay the bills so she didn’t have to dip into her savings too much. To that end, she had been perusing the classified ads in the morning paper.

> _MODELS WANTED! Looking for fresh new faces, non-augmented bodies. All shapes and sizes. Partial tasteful nudity required. Competitive rates._

It had been the wage quoted after ‘competitive rates’ which had made her back up and re-read the ad. She had never even dreamed about being a model; she knew she wasn’t the type. And she’d much rather hunt down the answer to a research question in the pages of a book than strut about flaunting her body anyway. But unless it required a long-term contract, she had the sudden vision of being able to earn quite a lot of money in a relatively short period of time. Maybe she could even take a little vacation before she settled in with her next library job, see a bit of the world. Or the country, at any rate. And, well, she fit all the requirements. She would be a fresh face, and she certainly had never augmented anything. It might be fun to go along and check it out, at any rate. If she were told she wasn’t what they were looking for, she wouldn’t be insulted. The only thing that gave her pause was the ‘partial nudity’, as she tried to picture what the ‘tasteful’ might entail. Something like clutching a silken bedsheet to the front of her naked body? She thought she might be able to handle something like that. It would depend, she decided, on how many other people would be around to see her. And the vibes she got off of whoever would be hiring her. She tapped the paper thoughtfully with her red pen, then circled the phone number in the ad. She would need to ask some questions first, if they were even interested. 

She didn’t know what she expected when she showed up for her appointment with the photographer, but it wasn’t the instant fluttering in the pit of her stomach when he looked up from the desk where he was making some notes on a piece of paper and his face broke into a brilliant smile as if he were genuinely glad to see her. It was a lovely smile, and he was a very attractive man, with longish brown hair shot through with grey falling in smooth waves past the white collar of his button-down shirt in a way that had her fingers itching to reach out and see if it was as soft as it looked. 

“Thank God, someone older than college age. Not that there’s anything wrong with college age,” he clarified, in an accent that she identified as Scottish, “Or that you can’t go to college at any age, but I was hoping for a bit more variety in type than what I’ve seen so far today.”

“What type am I?” she asked curiously, surprised to find her nerves already settling.

“Hm, not sure yet. Walk around,” he instructed, making a motion with his hand. “Turn, look back over your shoulder, go to the window and pretend you’re looking out waiting for your lover to return.”

Considering that she’d never had a lover, Belle had to pretend on that front, but she followed each of his instructions in turn and then sat down when he bade her.

“You are…a multidimensional type,” Gold decided. “I can see you being fun and flirtatious, but there’s also a lot going on behind your eyes. If this were autumn instead of summer, I’d put you in a country house setting, sitting on a window seat in the library with a book open in your hand, gazing pensively out into the garden.” He leaned forward, extending his hand for her to shake. “Sterling Gold, at your service.”

“Belle French.” She smiled in delight at his assessment. His hand felt warm and strong, a chunky silver chain link bracelet that shifted around his wrist drawing attention to the bare forearm revealed by his rolled up sleeves. “Ask why I want this job,” she prompted.

He leaned back in his chair, looking surprised but interested. “Why do you want this job?”

“Because the library on Pine closed, and there are still bills to pay until I can find another position in my field. Sitting in a library with a book in my hand is one of my very favourite things in the world to do. Especially if it comes with a window seat and a garden to look out onto. I’d say you are a very astute person, Mr. Gold.”

“Sterling, please. Even at my age, Mr. Gold still sounds like my father. So you’re a librarian, then?” He couldn’t help feeling pleased that he had placed her in the right environment.

“I am.” Her lips quirked.

“You’re thinking it; I know you are. I recognise the look. Go ahead and say it.” He looked amused.

“Sterling Gold?” she repeated, biting back a smile. “Like sterling silver, but better?”

He grinned. “Most people don’t catch it so soon, although to be fair, it’s not a term you hear as often. Apparently it was my mother’s choice – probably wanted me to become a banker or something, not a somewhat bohemian photographer.”

“It’s a good name,” she said stoutly. “A strong name. And you seem to have done all right for yourself.” She glanced around the little studio.

“I’m doing well now, but it was a long hard road to get here, let me tell you. Probably just as well I couldn’t draw worth a damn, at least there’s a better commercial market for photographers. Always someone wanting pictures of their kids, or their pets, or their wedding, to get you started in the business. And then I broke into the fashion market, made connections in the magazine world, and finally was able to stage something of my own and sell it.” He shook his head with a self-deprecating noise, and raked back the strands of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. “Why am I telling you about me? I should be asking about you.”

“Because your life sounds more interesting than mine?’ Belle suggested. “But go ahead. Fire away.”

“All right. You say you’re only looking for something temporary; that’s fine with me. Can you swim?”

“Yes.” She cocked her head curiously.

“Sail? Surf? Ride?”

“Sort of to the sailing? My uncle had a boat, but it’s been years. I know port from starboard and to duck when the boom swings over. But I’m deckhand status only, I need telling what to do. Surfing, no. Riding? I’m hardly an accomplished equestrienne, but I’m up for a trail ride. Again, it’s been a while, though. You’re making me miss home,” she said with a note of wistfulness.

“And home’s in Australia? What made you come to the U.S.?”

“Wanted to see the world,” she said promptly. “Came over for university and was lucky enough to be offered a job right after. I guess home is here now, though, at least for the immediate future. I’d still like to travel more; that was one of the things about your ad that caught my eye. I thought that kind of money might enable me to take a little vacation before I get settled into another library job. Maybe take a tour through the New England states, visiting historic sites or something. What are the questions for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I like to tailor the theme around any special skills or interests the model has, if possible. What do you like to do at the beach?” he asked, making notes on his pad. 

“Get wet and cool off if it’s a hot day. Walk along the shore and look for shells. Stretch out on my towel to dry off and listen to the gulls. Sit under an umbrella with a good book and a cold drink. Not very exciting, I’m afraid.”

“it sounds very relaxing. Are you all right with the partial nudity? Top half only.”

“I had some questions about that. Could you clarify exactly what sort of photos you would be taking?”

“Of course.” He pulled out a fat binder, and turned it toward her, accidentally catching the edge of a double photo frame that sat on his desk and turning it so that she could see the pictures. One was a photo of a younger Gold holding a chubby-cheeked toddler who was clutching a wooly stuffed sheep and beaming at the camera, the other was obviously the same dark-haired boy, now a teenager of 14 or 15, smiling that same infectiously cheerful smile. 

“Your son?” she asked, smiling. She glanced around to see if there was another frame with a picture of a wife, but that was the only one in sight. 

“Bailey,” Gold said at once, his face lighting up love and pride as he straightened the frame. “He’s a great kid. Best thing that came out of that marriage.”

“His mother…?” Belle asked hesitantly, then instantly gave a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“Died in a car accident,” he said briefly. “I’m sorry for Bae’s sake, but, well, she was a woman who was not cut out to be a mother. She’d been out drinking with one of her bar buddies, that was why she crashed. I was trying to hold the marriage together, but she’d made it clear she wasn’t happy.” He looked up ruefully. “And there I go again. Too much information. Something about you makes me want to confess my life story. You’d make a great bartender.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Belle said, privately thinking his wife hadn’t appreciated what she had got, unless Gold had some horrible habits she knew nothing about. 

He opened the binder to the first page. “Here, some examples of my past work.”

As she flipped through the pages, the first thing that struck her was that most of the photos had been taken in a natural setting – the beach, a field of wildflowers, the woods. Secondly, they were more sensual than sexual, a celebration of beauty. She pointed at the woodland ones, where waif-like models dressed in tattered costumes and gauze wings were meant to represent some sort of woodland sprites, peeking out from behind trees and crouching on the banks of a stream. A bare breast showed here and there, but there was nothing lewd or raunchy about it; it was simply part of a body.

“I’ve seen these before.”

Gold looked pleased. “One of my most successful shoots. There was a book put together with them in it.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Does that mean you’re interested in the job?”

“May I ask what sort of shoot I’d be doing?”

“With summer here, I’m doing another beach shot. They’re always popular.”

Belle turned back a page and looked at those photos. There was a lot more skin on display in those, but really, wasn’t there always on a beach? And she’d seen more than her share of topless sunbathers in Australia, it wasn’t that uncommon. Not on all beaches, not the family-oriented ones, but still, not something she saw as taboo or particularly shocking. Except for the fact that she wouldn’t be just one figure in a crowd, she’d have the lens of a camera focused on her. 

“How many people will be on the set?” she asked.

“It depends. I work with just a make-up and wardrobe woman, and a lighting guy, but if the light is right, he can stay in the trailer. And I doubt I’ll need Karen much either once she’s got you kitted out; I want a casual, natural look for this one. She can either hover around and make occasional minute adjustments to your hair if you would be more comfortable having a third person around, or she can hang out in the trailer with Tim if you’d prefer it just be you and me on the beach. I’m sure I can manage without her. “ 

She didn’t know why, but Belle felt surprisingly comfortable around a man she’d just met. She thought she might prefer it just being the two of them. “Okay.”

“Okay, as in you want the job?”

“Okay as in yeah, I’d like to try. I don’t know how good I’ll be, mind you.”

Gold nodded with satisfaction, and god, there was that smile again. He got up and walked around in front of his desk, perching on the edge in front of her. She noticed that he had a slight limp, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He considered her thoughtfully. 

“We’ll take some test photos in the studio, see how you do, and look on film. And if everything looks good, I’ll arrange a day for the shoot.”

The test photos were fun, just posing against a blank screen, His voice made it fun, listening to that rough burr roll over her, telling her that she was lovely, that she sparkled, to give him that flirty look, and oh yeah, he’d be a goner if she turned that on him for real. Even if it was just patter, she wanted each compliment, wanted to please him. After several minutes he called a halt, and it wasn’t long after that she was staring at photos of herself, except they almost seemed to be of a different person, one glowing with life and vitality and fun, her soul shining out from behind her eyes. She realised that although she was content with her life, she hadn’t really done anything _fun_ for quite a long while. Anything adventurous. 

“How did you do that?” she asked in wonder, picking one up and wondering if he would let her have copies of any of these. 

“Do what?” He stood next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. “They came out nice, didn’t they? I knew the camera would love you.” He studied them for a moment, then turned and looked at her. “One thing only, if you’re amenable.” He raised a hand and slid his fingers into her hair, lifting it, testing its weight. “Would you mind going to a stylist I use and having your hair thinned a bit? Give it more life, movement. When you swing your hair, I want to see it really flare out.”

“Would you be paying for it?” asked Belle, her heart rate evening back out after the way it had skittered when he had touched her. She hadn’t had anything more than an occasional trim for years, preferring to spend her money on things that mattered more to her. But it was a thick, heavy mop, especially in summer. She wouldn’t mind having it thinned out at all. 

“Definitely.”

“Then, sure,” she agreed cheerfully. “Do whatever you like with it. Within reason,” she added cautiously. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to give you a purple mohawk,” he laughed. “All right, I’ll see when they can fit you in, and then we’ll get the shoot scheduled.” 

* * *

When they arrived at the beach, a private, secluded stretch along a curve of the bay that belonged to someone Gold knew, Belle was whisked into the make-up and wardrobe trailer. where the woman who worked for Gold, Karen, deftly applied a minimalist, natural look. “There are a few bikinis behind that curtain,” she said as she finished, nodding towards a changing area. “Sterling said to pick the one you like best to start.”

“Thanks.” Belle knew which one she liked best as soon as she saw it, and changed into a suit of a beautiful aquamarine colour. Wrapping a white gauze shirt around herself and slipping her feet into thongs, she headed out onto the sand.

Gold spotted her and approached, smiling. He was wearing khakis and a matching khaki multi-pocketed vest over a white t-shirt today, his camera already slung around his neck. “Ready? You look great, by the way. I knew that colour would suit you.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. She knew she looked good, having gotten not only a trim and a thinning but also some highlights applied to her hair when she had visited his stylist. The difference was subtle, but she could feel the added bounce to her hair as she moved. “Where do you want me?”

He’d spread out a blanket on the sand, anchored down with a striped canvas beach bag and a picnic hamper and a low-slung chair under a sun umbrella. A book and suntan lotion awaited her in the bag, and they started there, Belle lounging back comfortably in the chair, digging her toes into the warm sand and trying to look sexy as she smoothed more lotion onto her arms and legs, adding it to the layer she’d already applied in the trailer. Then she picked up the book and pretended to read while still listening to Gold’s instructions as he snapped away. Invited to pick something to eat or drink from the hamper, she selected a peach, and almost instantly regretted it as the juice spurted out with her first bite, running down over her chin and hand. She raised her wrist to her mouth, to stop the juice from running down any further, and realised she could turn the situation to her advantage. Looking directly into the camera, she slowly ran her tongue over her hand, cleaning herself up as sensuously as possible, and triumphed inwardly when she heard a soft groan from Gold. 

“Dammit, Belle, are you trying to seduce me?”

“I don’t know; is it working?” Deliberately she licked all around her lips, and took another wide bite from the peach, better prepared this time.

“I can’t say I’m unaffected. Yeah, that’s good,” he encouraged. When she finally put the clean pit aside, he lowered his camera and came over to the blanket, the light breeze blowing his hair across his face. He pushed it back and offered his hand, pulling her to her feet when she accepted it. “Ready to get moving?” He bent and pulled a frisbee out of the beach bag, cocking his wrist preparatory to sending it sailing out. 

Belle began backing away. “All right,” she called, and lunged for the disc as it went by, grabbing it neatly out of the air. “Woo-hoo!” she yelled with a grin, raising it in triumph, and heard the now familiar click of the camera. She sent it sailing back, and Gold hastily lowered his camera but fumbled the catch.

“I wasn’t ready!” he defended himself, and left it lying on the sand.

“Whatever you say,” she smirked, and wished they were just here as friends, having fun. For the next twenty minutes, Gold kept her moving. She picked up stones and tried to send them skipping over the waves, she strolled along the water’s edge and gazed out to sea and bent to pick up imaginary seashells as instructed. Gold’s voice was a constant presence in her ear, telling her how to look, how to move, how great she was doing. Each word of praise bolstered her confidence, until she was shooting sultry glances at the camera without being asked, walking with an extra sway to her hips. The sun beat down upon her and she shook her hair back, waded into the shallow waves and yelped, dancing back out as the cool water rolled in over her feet, hearing Gold’s laughter and determinedly going back in, kicking at the ripples and sending a spray of water into the air. 

“Oh, nice one!” Gold called approvingly. “Time to get wet! Run out into the water and dive under. When you come up, throw your hair back away from your face.”

“Easy for you to say,” she retorted. “The water’s cold!”

“You don’t have to be in it for long.” He grinned. “We’ll warm you up afterwards.”

“I’m gonna shriek,” she warned him, turning towards the surf.

“The camera can’t hear you. Shriek as loud as you like.” He raised the camera , poised and ready to shoot. 

Belle took a deep breath and ran into the water, shrieking as the water rose up to her waist. As soon as it was deep enough, she took a low dive under, feeling the cold water slide smoothly over her bare skin in a lover’s caress, and came to the surface quickly, tossing her hair back in what she hoped was a smooth motion, raising her arms up and back to help slick the excess water from her hair.

“Gorgeous! Like a goddess rising from the deep!” Gold yelled. “Look my way!”

She turned her head, casting him a look over her shoulder and hearing the camera click one frame after another. “Hardly a goddess,” she said deprecatingly. “Are you sure you’re Scottish and not Irish?” She fought the urge to run squealing back onto the beach and slowly sauntered back towards him instead.

“If you’re accusing me of having a bit of the blarney, I’m only calling them as I see them,” he retorted. “Venus, goddess of love and beauty.”

“I’m freezing, you know,” she said conversationally, still keeping that half smile on her face as she paused with the water lapping at her calves. ‘I’ve got goosebumps all over.” Her nipples were achingly stiff with the cold, standing out sharply in relief beneath the taut fabric of her bikini. She wanted to cross her arms over herself and rub some warmth into her cool flesh, but instead she hugged that word ‘goddess’ to herself and pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin, spreading her legs slightly for balance as the waves rolled towards the shore and pushed at her legs. She didn’t know where this new confidence had come from, this feeling of power. of being beautiful. This ability to banter with a man she’d just met the other day. “Can I come out yet?”

“Yes, come back onto the sand, walk towards me, slowly. Toss your hair to the side, lovely. Pretend you’ve just come out of the warm Aegean Sea, the sky’s a brilliant blue, the hot sun is beating down. There’s a towel on the blanket, you can dry yourself off a bit and lie down, on your stomach.” He dragged the beach chair off to the side and angled the umbrella so she wouldn’t be shadowed by it. 

Belle was glad to towel off some of the cold water but her skin under the wet bikini still felt uncomfortably chilled. She dropped onto the spread out blanket, glad to press its warmth to her front, and folded her arms in front of her, beneath her chin, and looked up.

“That’s it, lovely,” Gold encouraged, snapping away. “Undo the ties of your top, let it drop to the side. Don’t want any tan lines, right?”

Here it was at last, but she was pumped, full of adrenaline, and Belle only hesitated for a moment, reaching behind her back and neck without giving herself time to think about it, feeling the wet strings slither off her body and the triangles of fabric fall away from her breasts, still pressed against the blanket.

“Lift your upper body up a little more. Up on your elbows. Look at the camera like it’s someone you’re glad to see.”

Belle straightened her upper arms, felt the blanket graze caressingly over her swollen, sensitive nipples as she shifted, and the answering throb between her legs. She pressed her hips down into the sand, feeling it shift beneath her, conforming to her body, and bit her lip as she resisted the urge to rock into the little mounded up hillock she’d created. She wrenched her thoughts away from what she would do if she were alone right now and focused on Gold instead. Her crossed lower arms still preserved her modesty from the camera’s eye. She parted her lips in a laughing smile, ran her tongue flirtatiously over her bottom lip.

Gold made an appreciative noise. “You’re a natural at this, do you know that, Belle? Some people have it, some don’t. Okay, sit up now, put on the straw hat.”

Belle took a deep breath, rolled over, and sat up quickly, her back to Gold. She grabbed up the towel to give her chest a quick rub, hoping to warm up her nipples and relieve the aching awareness of them that she really could do without right now. She closed her eyes briefly, and tried to concentrate on the sun’s warmth, tried to imagine she was only one of dozens of other women doing this on a crowded Australian beach, that no one was paying any particular attention to her. It didn’t work. She was here, alone, the focus of a man that she found ridiculously attractive, and he was taking pictures of her. With an effort, she tossed the towel aside and reached for the hat, putting it on, angling it to shade her eyes.

That helped a bit, having her face shielded beneath the wide brim of the hat, gave her a sense of anonymity, and she wondered if he knew that. She pulled the wet locks of her hair down over her breasts and twisted slightly to look over her shoulder at Gold, hearing the camera click as she did, feeling uncertain for the first time, waiting for instructions. 

“Sit cross-legged, stretch out your arms, fingers interlaced. Straight out in front of you at first, and then slowly lifting them up over your head.” 

Belle was glad of the hat’s concealing brim as her cheeks heated, and for a few seconds her mind rebelled as she thought no, that was too exposed, there was no way her hair would stay in place, she’d be basically thrusting her chest out in a way that said ‘hey! look at me!’. But then she remembered the examples of Gold’s former work that she had seen. He managed to capture the beauty of a woman without overtly sexualising them; she had to trust that these photos would turn out the same way. She firmed her resolve and linked her fingers together, stretching out her arms, slowly bringing them up above her head. 

“Yes, perfect, lift your arms up higher, straight into the air, stretch your body out. Feel your spine elongating, I can see it. Then separate your hands, bring your arms down behind you till your hands rest on the ground; arch your back, worship the sun, oh, lovely, Belle!”

Belle felt her hat fall off and her hair fall back behind her, any possibility of partial concealment gone, but she didn’t care. Since she was doing this, she was going to do it well and bloody well _pose_ for the man. A part of her wanted that, wanted to show herself off to her best advantage, to earn those compliments he was giving her, wanted him to really think she was beautiful and not simply be part of his no doubt usual patter. She closed her eyes against the sun, drawing one leg up and stretching the other out, listening to Gold moving around her as the sound of the camera click shifted. 

Gold snapped away furiously, taking shots from all angles, trying to ignore the way his groin had tightened. He didn’t do that, he didn’t look at his models that way. But the way she moved, her blend of innocence and something beneath the surface waiting to break free, was affecting him on a level far beyond the aesthetic. She had a dancer’s body, strong and fit, a dancer’s control of her movements. 

“All right, sit up one more time, arms up above your head again but hands apart, try to frame the sun in your hands, as if you’re holding it. Perfect! Hold still…and relax.” He came over to join her, crouching at the edge of the blanket, politely averting his eyes as Belle drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “There’s one more series of shots I want to do, and then we’ll be done for now, although I want to shoot a few more near sunset.” He picked up the white gauze shirt from where the tote bag had been anchoring it to keep it from blowing away in case the breeze had strengthened. “Cover-up?” he offered.

“Thanks.” Belle took the lightweight garment, glancing down as she did up the buttons directly over her chest, realising just how sheer it actually was. She drew her hair down in front of her again, glad of its length, and cast a look at Gold with raised eyebrows. “You do realise that this is a “cover-up” only by the loosest, very loosest definition, don’t you?”

“If you don’t want it…” He lifted an eyebrow and Belle shook her head. 

“I shall take it for its illusory comfort,” she said grandly, and Gold grinned. 

“You’re pulling off the Lady Godiva thing very well,” he assured her. “Speaking of which, do you remember me asking if you could ride?”

“Yes – oh my god, do you have a horse?” She scrambled to her feet, looking around in anticipation.

Gold took his phone out of one of his vest pockets. “Tim, is she here?”

“I’ve got her right behind the trailer.”

“Bring her ‘round.”

Belle rose on the balls of her feet in excitement as a beautiful light grey Arabian mare was led into view. She took a few steps off the blanket and then paused, remembering the state of her undress. “No saddle?” she noted. “I’m going to be riding bareback in a bikini, aren’t I?” she asked wryly, and glanced down at herself. “Make that half a bikini.” Although she could already picture the resulting images in her mind’s eye, and had to admit they would look better without a saddle. 

“And a cover-up,” he offered helpfully. “Is the bareback a problem? You don’t have to go faster than a walk. She’s gentle and well-trained.”

“No, I guess not.” She thought of the two weeks she’d spent every summer with her uncle while growing up, and the patient pony that had belonged to the neighbour’s three kids. They’d seamlessly absorbed her into their midst every year, and they’d rarely bothered with a saddle. “Hopefully it’s like riding a bike, yeah?” She glanced down, picked up the beach towel, and wrapped it around herself, glad that being petite meant that it covered her completely, even if it had a few damp patches. She forewent the thongs and dug her toes into the warm sand as they walked to meet the approaching Tim.

“She’s beautiful,” she said appreciatively, moving to the side of the mare’s head and stroking along the silken, arched neck. The mare’s dark eye regarded her appraisingly. 

“Her name’s Jirel,” Tim offered, surrendering the reins to Gold, who crooned softly to the mare and fed her the carrot slice that Tim passed him.

“We can handle it from here, Tim, thanks.” Gold passed the reins to Belle. “Hold her?” He backed up and took a picture, Belle’s head close to the horse’s, Jirel turning to nuzzle at Belle, smelling the salt on her skin and hair. For a moment neither creature was paying attention to him, lost in a world of their own communion, and he felt that clenching of his heart when he knew he was capturing something perfect and beautiful. After a minute of soft murmurs and petting, Belle draped the reins over Jirel’s neck and looked up at him. 

Gold moved forward at once, dropping his camera and cupping his hands together. “Want a boost?”

Belle grabbed the reins and a handful of mane and slipped her bare foot into Gold’s linked hands, throwing her leg over Jirel’s back as she was lifted with apparent ease. Her towel came undone and slithered free, Gold catching it with a grin. Belle glanced down and arranged her hair to preserve as much of her modesty as possible. Since he didn’t protest, she figured it was okay. Gold stepped back. 

“Take her for a test drive,” he suggested. 

Belle eased the reins forward and nudged her heels against the mare’s sides, Jirel ambling forward obediently. Belle rode her a ways along the wet, hard-packed sand, letting her body shift with the rhythm of the horse’s strides, then turned her without trouble and started back. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Just ride her around. Try taking her out into the water. If you feel secure, go as fast as you like.” The camera came up again, that barrier between his eyes and her, and he pivoted in place as she circled around him and headed back up the beach again. 

It didn’t take more than a minute for her to become bored with the slow pace. There wasn’t much to look at along the stretch of beach, and she started wondering if she could keep her seat if they went any faster. She knew she’d never be able to sit a trot, but the smoother gait of a canter…

“What do you think, Jirel?” she mused aloud. “Want to go faster?” The mare’s small ears swiveled back, listening to her, and that decided her, giving her confidence that she could rein the mare back to a walk quickly if she felt herself slipping. She wound her fingers around a fistful of mane and leaned forward, tightening her legs against the mare’s sides and kicking with her bare heels. “Hup!” she called, and for one lurching moment, her seat slid sideways as the mare broke into a trot, but she kicked her heels again, urging her on, and then she was floating, flying, the breeze blowing her hair out and filling the gauze shirt, causing it to billow out behind her. The thin, loosely-woven cotton was no barrier, she felt the unfamiliar but exciting sensation of it against her otherwise bare breasts, her nipples tightening in response. She reined Jirel around in a wide curve, steering her out into the surf, the mare snorting and whinnying, lifting her forelegs high as they splashed into the water It sprayed up around them in a fountain of flung spume, cold but exhilarating as it splashed up over her calves and higher, but knowing she would soon be able to return to the trailer and get dressed and warm again allowed her to disregard it except for an initial squeal.

“Go it, go it, go it!” Gold yelled as they plunged towards him, snapping pictures as fast as he could, constantly shifting the focus. “Head out a bit!” He lowered the camera briefly, gesturing with his arm. “Then turn and come straight towards me. Veer to my right and go around me when you get close!” 

“Gotcha!” Belle swung out as she neared him, into slightly deeper water, Jirel perforce slowing, then turned and then headed straight at him, laying her body out along the mare’s neck and clasping her legs tightly around her barrel as they speeded up again. Gold stood his ground, only calling “Now!” and as responsive as ever, Jirel obeyed the touch of the rein and Gold pivoted in place as they veered around him and went charging up onto the beach, Belle finally sitting back and slowing Jirel back to a walk, circling and looking back at Gold. 

“How was that?” she called, breathless and triumphant. 

“It was wonderful, and you know it! I told you, you have a knack for this. You know what will look good on film, and that will look great, you just wait until it’s developed and you can see them!” He walked over to the horse’s left side. “I think that’s a wrap for now, we’ll come back later and get those sunset photos.” This close, he wanted to reach out and stroke the curve of her bare calf up to her thigh. He looked higher to distract himself, and it was even worse. Only two buttons held the edges of the gauze shirt together, and getting splashed with seawater had only increased its transparency as it clung to her body. He had no trouble seeing the raised peaks of her nipples, her hair having been blown back by the ride. But either she had forgotten her near nudity or she had gotten comfortable with it, for she made no move to pull her hair forward in an act of concealment, but merely smiled down at him. 

“Shall I walk Jirel cool, then?” she asked. 

Gold shook his head. “Tim can do that. You can get down now, get dressed and warmed up.” Seizing that as an excuse, he dared to lay a hand against her leg in a brief caress. “You’re not too cold, are you?” Her lower leg and ankle were cool to the touch but not excessively so, he didn’t think. “I’ll buy you lunch after, if you like.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “And I’d love to have lunch. I’ve worked up an appetite!” She looked at the ground, then glanced over her shoulder. “Now how did I used to get down?” She knew, of course, but although a small horse, the Arabian mare was still at least a hand taller than Bracken had been, while she had already finished growing the last time she had ridden him. What had once been done without thought now seemed more awkward. _So just do it,_ she thought, _don’t think about it._

Gold slung his camera around to his back and reached out to take the reins, wrapping them around his hand. “Here, I’ve got her. Do you need a step?” He started to link his fingers together. 

But Belle was already scooting back slightly, holding onto a fistful of mane with her left hand as she leaned forward over the mare’s neck and swung her right leg over the mare’s rump, pivoting on her abdomen and sliding off along the mare’s side. She felt her shirt catch and be dragged up, and Gold’s hands come to rest on the nearly bare skin of her hips, steadying her as she landed on feet with only a slight stagger. She turned around to face him, his grip loose, but instead of falling away his hands re-settled on her hipbones, light and uncertain, but most definitely _there_. 

He should step back, Gold knew, glancing down briefly and taking note of the fact that the gauze shirt’s buttons had come undone in her slide off her horse, leaving it open down the front of her chest. He looked back up and felt himself drowning in her eyes. He should step back, and let his arms fall, give her her space. But before he could convince his body to obey his brain she rose on her toes, one hand on his shoulder and the other snaking through his hair and urging his head down, and she was kissing him.

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her to him, and after a brief second of shock, he could no more have stopped himself from tilting his head to find the perfect angle and kissing her back. 

It ended all too soon, with Belle stepping back and biting her lip nervously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, that was totally inappropriate –”

“It would have been,” he agreed, clearing his throat, “If I hadn’t been wanting to do the same thing myself all afternoon.”

“Oh.” 

“And it’s not like you’re a professional model in the business who I might be working with again,” he pointed out reasonably. “So, if you wanted to, why not?”

“And I could quit right now,” she agreed.

“What about the money for that vacation you wanted?’

“It doesn’t sound as enticing without a travel companion anymore.”

“We could do both?” he suggested, heart thumping in his chest with hope. “Take a mini road trip, shoot some pictures, let you do a little sight-seeing.”

“Oh!” Her eyes shone with excitement. “Could we really?”

“Why not? Where was it you said you wanted to go, historical sites in New England?” he asked.

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but yeah. Historical, literary sites? And just taking in the scenery, and finding old bookshops to browse through.”

“I can see a good article in there: “A Book Lover’s Holiday”. Or just general summer pictures. I’ll contact some magazines, see if they have anything planned that we could provide the photos for. Make a list of the top 5 places you’d like to visit.”

Belle wanted to squeal with excitement, and settled for gripping Sterling’s arms tighter. “And you’d be paying the expenses, right?” she clarified.

“Food and lodging, and the gas to get there. Oh, and the clothes for your shoots. I might have some things on hand that’ll fit you, or some of your own clothes might work, but I’ll probably want to buy at least a few pieces new. If you want some input, we can go on a shopping spree together.”

“I would love that,” she enthused. That meant time together, a date sort of. “When would we go?”

“The shopping? Depends on those calls I make, if there’s anything specific wanted for an article. The trip itself? If I can get all the arrangements made, Bae’s got a week at camp coming up soon; it’d be the perfect time.”

“Okay.” Belle beamed; things had shifted gear so fast but it just felt right, so incredibly right. She wondered if it was too soon for another kiss, or a hug. 

Dazzled by the brilliance of Belle’s smile, Gold let his hands drift upwards, under the hem of the gauze shirt. He paused at her waist, then moved just a tiny bit higher, his fingers curling around her ribs to her back, his thumbs right below her breasts. He watched her eyes widen, and darken, but she didn’t move. Recklessly he wondered how far he could go, but after a moment he forced himself to drop his hands and took a step back, wondering if he was imagining a flash of disappointment in her eyes.

“So, ah, I’ll let you get dried off and dressed, and then we could go have that lunch I promised?” His eyes flicked downwards briefly, and then up again.

Belle’s gaze followed his and she flushed, having momentarily forgotten the state of her attire sometime while safely atop a horse at a distance.

“Yeah, all right.” Her skin still tingling from the imprint of his hands, knowing she had wanted him go further but also appreciating that he had been enough of a gentleman to stop. It would have been too fast, too soon, and what did she want to do, make out on the beach? _Well yes_ , her mind supplied, but she resolutely ignored that for later fantasies. Belle patted Jirel goodbye and headed back to the trailer, scooping up her beach towel on the way from where Gold had dropped it on the sand and draping it around herself.

Gold took a shaky breath as he watched her disappear inside. It was a good thing that they’d be sharing rooms with Tim and Karen when they went on location, because right now the idea of Belle being alone in a motel room right next to his sounded altogether too tempting. He had a chance at something good here, he knew, something he hadn’t felt for a very long time. And the last thing he wanted was to rush and screw it up. He stroked Jirel’s muzzle absently as the mare nudged at him and thought of the way Belle had looked riding the horse, hair flying wild and free, nearly naked, the look of joy on her face…

Abruptly he started forward with the mare, ready to turn her over to her owner. He was going to need a cold shower before the day was done, and when he went through all of his photos of the day. Or maybe a warm one, and the attention of his own hand.

She had kissed him, she was interested in him, they were going to see each other again. The grin grew ever larger on his face as his mind relayed each fact but he didn’t care who saw him. The future loomed ahead, bright and glorious.

Posted 3 years ago


End file.
